


I Can’t Die With Feelings Buried Deep Inside

by bluejaymorse



Series: fire emblem three houses [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Battle, Kinda fluff, M/M, Near Death Experience, also mentions of blood, idk - Freeform, its fire emblem, mentions of wounds, they kiss !, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejaymorse/pseuds/bluejaymorse
Summary: In the heat of battle, Sylvain is wounded, and has to be dragged off the battlefield. Felix doesn’t have a good reaction to that.





	I Can’t Die With Feelings Buried Deep Inside

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in two days and it ain’t half bad, i think!! keep in mind it’s not edited, but i hope you enjoy !!

To say that Felix was angry was an understatement. He was angry all the time, or at least that’s what everyone said. Sure, his demeanor was off putting, but it didn’t mean he was angry every single second of every single day. It wasn’t his fault people didn’t approach him in fear of being decked in the face, maybe he liked it that way, who was to know. Right at that moment though, Felix was fuming. And it was all thanks to Sylvain. 

That last battle was probably harder than any other they had went through. Everything was going well until the sudden appearance of enemy reinforcements threw their strategy off the rails and the professor had to come up with a new one on the spot. It wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle, and the empire would not be able to send enough reinforcements to stop completely stop them. It wasn’t until he saw Sylvain being dragged off the battlefield that he realized maybe they bit more than they could chew. 

Felix made his way over to follow Sylvain and the two clerics that carried his unconscious body, but he was stopped by the new orders being given to them. 

“Felix, follow orders, no you can’t-” soldiers from his own battalion tried to stop him, but it wasn’t enough. His heart was wrenching upon itself, feeling tighter and heavier, a clump in his throat forming as his eyebrows furrowed even more. If that dumbass got himself killed… 

He started to run when another, more imposing voice stopped him. Dimitri. “Felix! Listen to the professor!” he seemed on edge too, and Felix wasn’t in the mood to see the boar prince go crazy once more. He gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter, glaring with all his might at Dimitri, who glared back. “Follow orders, Felix.” he seethed, speaking through gritted teeth. If they weren’t close, Felix wouldn’t have heard him. 

He turned around, and went back to leading his battalion. The rest of the fight was spent with furious blows and enraged jabs of his sword. Any foe that crossed his path would be impaled. All he kept thinking was how stupid Sylvain had been, to get himself gravely injured was just what he needed for Felix to prove to him how much of a dumbass he was. Every order he yelled at his battalion was uttered through hostile cries, as if he couldn’t wait to get the battle over with to go yell at Sylvain’s probably still unconscious body. How dare that man, no, that stupid boy go and get himself gravely wounded? 

All that ran through Felix’s head was Sylvain’s current state. He knew that Sylvain was most likely alive, a stupid wound would not be enough to completely shatter Sylvain’s stubbornness to stay alive. Yet, his mind could not help but wander to more darker endings to the matter. Visions of Sylvain bleeding on the floor plagued his mind, his eyes open wide and dull, devoid of all life. It made his strikes even stronger. If he just finished this battle already, he would be able to know if Sylvain was even alive. The fact that they would not let him know was making matters worse. He would never admit to it, yet, the thought of losing Sylvain, one of his closest friends, was a thought that nearly brought him to tears. Angry tears, he would say. 

Felix would never call his fighting unhinged, like Prince Dimitri’s; calculated and strong, he would say. People who didn’t know him would think otherwise. Felix wasn’t giving anyone a chance to strike him, he struck first. Enemies ran to him, he slayed them on the spot. Any of them could be Sylvain’s attacker, and he couldn’t take the risk of letting them run around the battlefield anymore. 

He got in a particularly hard fight with one of the generals, one strike of his sword was not enough to bring the general down, so when he recovered from his own strike, the general took the chance to lunch his lance forward and strike Felix’s on the side of his abdomen. Not a mortal wound. One more strike and the general finally went down. 

“Felix! Let me heal you! I-”

“I’m okay, Mercedes!” before she even had the chance to heal his wounds, he ran out of her reach, hoping to end the enemy commander himself and leave. 

The battle finally came to an end. His wound had gotten worse, he was losing blood, but the adrenaline in his body did not allow him to feel the pain. Only one thing ran through his thoughts; or rather one person. Sylvain. It was Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain over and over again. He dropped his sword to the floor and started running out of the battlefield; if he ran fast enough, he would make it quickly to camp. Leaving his battalion to finish the remains, he went on his way. 

If it weren’t for Dimitri, grabbing his arm roughly before he could get away. Felix almost felt his legs crumbled under him over the sudden stop, and once he regained his footing, glared at Dimitri. 

“Don’t touch me.” he hissed. 

“What happened out there!? You were doing whatever you wanted! Do you know-”

“Sylvain is in critical state and you expect me to be okay!?” he snatched his arm right back over to himself, eyes still connected with Dimitri’s, still angry. “Not that I would expect you, out of all people, to know what it’s like to be worried about someone.” with that final sentence, he started running back to camp once again. 

If Felix was completely honest with himself, he had no idea what he would say once he saw Sylvain. Maybe he would hell at him, maybe he would punch him for being such an idiot, or just kick him while he was down for making him worry so much. It wasn’t like Sylvain wasn’t always getting in hard situations during battle, most of the times it was to impress any ladies that might see him, but he had never gotten hurt to a degree that he needed to be carried out of the battlefield, blood sliding down his arm and dripping onto the floor faster than it needed to be. From what Felix knew, that meant the wound was big. But most of all, Felix didn’t want to admit he was scared. 

He finally saw the camp on his field of view, it wasn’t big, for obvious reasons, but it was enough. A couple tents, space to train, one big tent to discuss the next move and where they would be marching off to next. There were wounded soldiers from the last battle, the monks taking care of them really quickly. If most of them were outside, that mean Sylvain had to be okay. He would be the main focus of attention after all, right? 

Felix wiped his crimson hands on his pants, blood stained them, and slowly made his way towards one of the monks. Grabbing him by the wrist and turning him around, he pulled the man close, to not have anyone listen to him asking about Sylvain. “Sylvain, where is he? Is he stable?” he said. He probably sounded more threatening than he thought because he saw the poor monk start shaking. 

“Y-Yes, I uhm, Sylvain is stable, he’s in the main tent, resting.” that was all he said, and it was all Felix needed. He let go of the monk’s wrist, a sharp turn and he was once again stomping around the grounds, the wound on his side getting even more frustrating every second that passed. He ignored it. 

The tent was finally within reach, his right hand gripping the side where his wound was, while the other reached for the tent. He stepped into the tent, not asking for permission or at least poking his head inside first, this was Felix we’re talking about. The few monks that were standing around were clearly startled, shocked at the sudden intrusion; yet, no one was more shocked than Felix. 

He expected to see Sylvain in critical condition, resting in one of those makeshift beds where they lay wounded or about-to-die people. Probably his entire abdomen drenched in dried blood and dirt from when he most likely fell from his horse. Instead, all he saw was Sylvain, sitting on the high bed, his legs swinging in the air, as the three monks tended to him, making sure he was clean. The only sign of battle on Sylvain was the cut on his cheek and bandages across his shirtless abdomen. No wonder the monks were going nuts over him, he was shirtless in front of them. 

Felix glowered both at them and Sylvain. “Get out.” he said, not taking his eyes off Sylvain; who had the gull to just smile at him.

“Oh goddess, you’re wounded, that looks awful, let me-”

“I said get out.” Felix snapped, taking a step away from her to not be touched. A curt nod came from her, and as quick as he entered, the three monks were out. 

“Oh come on, they were totally into me, Felix, why’d you have to go and scare them like that?” Sylvain smiled and rested back. His face showed just the slightest bit of pain, but other than that, he looked completely fine. A couple bruises, a few cuts here and there, what was expected of a normal, successful battle. His exposed biceps glowed with a sheen of sweat, and the white bandage around his abdomen brandished the copper colored stain of dried blood. His arms rested on the firm, stiff bed, as his legs swung front to back. The bed was high, no wonder someone as tall as Sylvain was able to swing his legs. 

Felix held onto his own wound, not showing any signs of being impaired out of sheer stubbornness. Felix took a few steps towards Sylvain, still glaring. “Do you have any idea how worried I was for you? I thought you were going to die!” 

“I told you last time, I’m not going to die-”

“Last time it was a small cut that you just went and made a big deal out of… This? You were carried off of the battlefield, covered in blood!” Felix started pacing, once again, doing his best to forget or at least dull the pain in his abdomen. That wound could wait, yelling at Sylvain couldn’t. “You such a fool! Fighting many enemies at once? What were you trying to prove? That you’re even weaker than before?” 

Sylvain smiled. “Were you worried about me?” 

“You idiot! Of course I was.” 

“I told you, I’m not dying on you.” Sylvain crossed his arms and leaned forwards, getting closer to Felix, his smile never faltering. “You’re way too special to leave behind.” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Felix furrowed his brows once again, right arm where it had been the entire time, and his left hand propped up on his hip. 

In a swift second Sylvain reached forward, grabbing Felix’s wrist tight and gentle in his own hand. The look on his face was of mischief and endearment, as if Felix’s presence in the tent was a gift the goddess had blessed him with. While Felix just looked angry at him. Sylvain ignored his own subsiding pain as he pulled Felix closer to him. His own legs spread just a little on the edge of the bed so Felix could be as close to him as possible. Sylvain’s hand still held Felix’s wrist in his own, placing the other’s hand on his chest. “It means that I wouldn’t die on you without doing this first.” he whispered, tilting his head down. His hot breath hitting Felix’s lips in a moment of intimacy. 

Felix opened his mouth to respond, but a pair of lips crashed against his. Even if he had time to respond, he wouldn’t have been able to say anything. The shock of Sylvain’s confession had been enough to render him speechless, and now there he stood, with the man’s lips on his own. 

Sylvain closed his eyes as his other hand raised to softly caress Felix’s cheek, cupping it in the palm of his hand. His thumb gently grazed under his eye. Felix couldn’t help but follow along, not putting his hands anywhere else, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, leaning forward to kiss Sylvain back with just as much emotion. Sylvain smiled in between the kiss, a soft snicker leaving his lips as the hand on Felix’s cheek moved over to the back of his neck, moving Felix’s head closer to deepen the kiss. Felix didn’t complain. Felix let out a soft hum, which Sylvain took as an opportunity to delicately introduce his tongue in Felix’s mouth. 

It was an awkward kiss. Both of them knew how to kiss, yes, but the feeling of kissing a childhood friend, if they could even call themselves that anymore, was different. Felix had to know he harbored these feelings for a long time now, but his best friend was denial. Keeping those feelings under the rug for years now, he learned to live without them. But like always, Sylvain came to disrupt everything with his wild, impulsive ways. 

Felix took out the hand from his wound, relieving the pressure on it, but it was a mistake. A wave of pain ran throughout his whole body, he winced and pulled away from the kiss. His lips felt cold without Sylvain’s, but he couldn’t focus on that now. 

“What, you don’t like my kissing? It didn’t seem like that just five second ago— Oh crap, you’re wounded!” 

“How kind of you to notice.” he mumbled. Maybe pushing every single healer away was not the greatest idea. Now that the adrenaline was gone from his system, his body and head started to hurt. “Call Mercedes.” 

“Right away!” Sylvain hopped from the bed, and smiled. “And once you’re all patched up, we can finish what we started, how about that?” 

“Just go fetch Mercedes, idiot!” Felix snapped. Yet, as Sylvain walked out from the tent laughing, he couldn’t help the small smile that crept up his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Nice, kiss. Lmao. okay bros, i am off to keep writing more shit. 
> 
> Kudos are Appreciated! Comments even more!


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